On Hallows Eve
by impr0mptu
Summary: Hellsing hosts a Halloween ball. Will Integra be able to fight off the intolerable advances of the male aristocracy? Will Seras be able to find an outfit that doesn't draw attention to her *ahem* figure? Will Alucard spike the punch? And what about poor Walter, who's got to try and keep the Queen distracted from all the carnage? [Rated M for many, many reasons]
1. It Begins

A/N: Finally! Halloween is nearly here, which means I can start posting this story! Hope y'all like it :D

R&R as always you lovely people.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing, or its characters etc

* * *

Integra looked up from her desk, eyeing Walter with a critical gaze. "A ball? You can't be serious?"

"Indeed I am, Sir," Walter nodded curtly. "I confess that the other Knights have been pressing us about it for some time, however their letters have been…accidentally going astray."

"Have they now?" Integra arched an eyebrow in amusement. "That must have been quite frustrating for them."

"Yes, well, I know how much you detest those sorts of things." Walter chuckled. "However that little ruse appears to have run its course, Sir Penwood called this morning."

"I suppose they're getting bolder in their demands now?" Integra sighed. Walter shifted uneasily where he stood, behaviour that was always considered a portent of bad things to come. Integra's eyes narrowed, this was classic 'You're not going to like what I'm about to say' behaviour. "Walter, out with it."

"The Queen is coming to the ball."

"What?" Integra gasped. "But we're not even hosting a ball!"

"Well it seems we have no choice," Walter smiled weakly, feeling more than a little pity for his young master. "It seems that one of the Knights let slip to the Queen that you were hosting a ball on Hallows Eve, and she's decided to attend."

Integra's jaw dropped. ' _Good lord, a Halloween ball? What on earth were they thinking?'  
_ "Walter why-"

"Did they pick Halloween?" He finished for her. "I believe it was a jibe at the fact we play host to a pair of vampires, Sir; you know how the Knights like to make us the butt of their jokes."

"Oh really?" Integra growled through gritted teeth. "That's how they think of my organisation, an object of open mockery?" The ball point pen in her fist snapped, her eyes flashing with rage.

Walter winced. "I do apologise, Sir. Perhaps if we'd replied to the letters directly we might have avoided all this."

"Well its too bloody late now, isn't it?" Integra removed her glasses to rub her throbbing temple. She sat in silence, seething. She knew what a ball meant, those decrepit aristocrats were going to try and force one of their wretched sons upon her. It was no secret, they'd been trying for years; _'_ Hellsing needs and heir' they'd say, 'Your not going to be young forever' they'd say. It was maddening.

Walter eyed Integra with the deepest sympathy; he knew exactly what she was thinking, and heavens know he'd done his best in the past to protect her from the other Knights advances. "I'm sorry Integra, I know how strongly you feel on the matter."

Integra's fury was distilled by his words, he always knew when it was right to address her as a normal person, a friend, rather than his boss.

"Thank you Walter, you know your compassion is deeply appreciated." She exhaled slowly, before lighting up a cigar to calm her nerves.

"I suppose we ought to start planning for the occasion," Walter sighed. "They won't expect the event to be anything less than textbook; especially since its been so long since we've held one."

Integra's head snapped up, a thought, most devious in its design, materialising in her mind. _That's it..._

"Walter, you're a genius. " She smiled wickedly.

The butler regarded her awkwardly, unsure of what he had said or done to merit the praise. "Um...I am, Sir?"

"Oh yes," Integra grinned. "Don't you see? You said it yourself, they'll want it to be textbook. They want a Halloween ball, so we'll damn well give them a Halloween ball, and I'll make sure they regret it for the rest of their miserable lives. They thought that thrusting it upon us would be a joke at our expense, because we play host to monsters, but we'll have the last laugh."

"Indeed sir?" Walter asked, a mischievous flicker in his eyes.

"I guarantee it." Integra declared triumphantly.

"Ah, but what about Her Majesty?" Walter reminded her. "We wouldn't want her to witness anything unsavoury."

"Let me worry about the Queen, Walter." She reassured him, as her mind called out for her _other_ servant.

The deep rumble of Alucard's laughter reverberated through the office as shadowy tendrils reached up from the carpeted floor. The towering figure of the vampire stepped out of the shadows, greeting Integra with a low bow.

"You summoned me, my master?"

The young woman's smile only widened, she was going to have fun with this. "Yes, Alucard. We've got a party to organise."


	2. Ann Summers

A/N: See? Chapter two is already here! Lets hope I can keep a better update routine with this compared to 'On Her Majesty's Orders'. For those of you who've read my other fic, dont fear, I have not abandoned it; I'm merely suffering terrible writers block T_T

As always R&R you lovely people!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing, Its characters or anything else related to it etc.

* * *

Cheeks flushed, Seras looked up and down the scantily clad figure that was staring back at her in the mirror. The blatant lie that vampires don't have reflections was lost on her, for she was far too preoccupied with the task of containing herself within such a skimpy outfit.

"Remind me again why I'm trying this on?" She huffed angrily through the curtains to her master, who was sitting just outside the dressing room of the shop, one of many on the busy streets of London. "This outfit doesn't exactly leave much to the imagination, I should count myself lucky I don't work in the police force any-more; they'd be all over me. And that's not a good thing, before you start snickering!"

" _I'm wounded that you think I take amusement in such things_ ," Came the deep baritone of his voice through their connection. " _I'm merely following my master's orders._ "

Seras had to hold back a scoff. "Somehow I doubt Integra wants me dressed up like a prostitute in front of the council, beside I-WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU DOING?!" She hurled the closest thing she could find, in this case a lace bra, in the direction of her master's head, which had rudely invited itself into her dressing room. The bra landed gracefully, cupping Alucard's head like a fine helmet.

"I'm giving you the other half of your outfit, you fool." He half growled, amused by the size of the bra that was now dangling from above. He plucked it gently from his head, as if it were some foreign object, and waved it in front of her face. "Though judging by the size of _this_ we may need to go up a size, we don't want you to have a wardrobe malfunction on the big night, do we?"

"Well give it 'ere then!" Seras demanded hotly, ignoring her master's misogynistic remarks about her voluptuous figure. Alucard complied, handing back the bra and the long dress he had originally intended on bringing in. Seras stared at it for a few moments, before her brow furrowed with irritation.

"If this thing's going to be covering most of me, why the hell to I have to put on all this?" She waved her hands down to the leather corset, satin underwear, and laced stockings that currently adorned her figure.

"You don't," Alucard purred. "I just wanted to see how you'd look in them."

"Cor, just you wait 'till I get out of here, master!" She squeaked vehemently, disregarding the red wine colour of her cheeks.

Alucard swatted away her weak attempts of slapping him, pushing her further back into the dressing room . "Not yet, you still have to try on these other outfits. Integra wants us to make sure we get the perfect one, you need to pull as much attention to yourself as legally allowable; I'll have the cashier woman bring them in."

"She has a name you know!" Seras called after him as he left the room.

"You, cashier woman; I require these garments in room three at once."

"My name is Michelle!"

"It is of little consequence to me, peasant, just hand Miss Victoria her garments so that we can be done here."

* * *

Integra was taking tea in the library, her private palace of relaxation, when Walter arrived with the package she had so eagerly been awaiting.

"Ah, I see the invitations have finally been printed." She placed down her porcelain mug of jasmine tea to inspect the package, pulling off the twine bow and removing the plain packaging. Inside were the forty plus invitations for the various aristocrats, dignitaries and council members she had chosen to invite.

"Do you approve, Sir?" Walter asked hopefully, this was the third time he'd had the invites printed; apparently Integra had a hidden flair for design and had demanded a hand in their production. Needless to say she was fastidious.

Integra smiled, pleased with what she saw. "I approve, have the invites sent immediately."

Walter sighed with relief. "I expect we wont wait long for a reply," He couldn't help the undertone of amusement in his voice. "I dare say Sir Irons will be in for quite a shock when he sees the lengths you're going to for this."

"We can only hope," Integra sighed, taking another sip from her tea. "Lets pray this all goes as planned; if we can pull this off I can look forward to a happy life, free from the advances and propositions of the spawn born from those men."

"You never know, some of the young men attending this ball may be perfectly amiable." Walter prompted, immediately earning himself the ire of his master, but he chose to ignore her penetrating leer. "Sons aren't the exact copies of their fathers after all."

Integra scoffed at the suggestion. "I should hope not; I can barely put up with one Sir Rothmann, lord help me if there's two."

"You know what I mean," Walter warned playfully. "Don't sell the stable before you've seen the thoroughbreds."

"They're all donkeys in my eyes." Integra rolled her eyes, it seemed that even Walter had some hidden fantasy of her marrying some rich toff. "Please tell me you'll abandon this foolish train of thought?"

"Well I wont press you, hows that for a compromise?" Walter asked.

"Good enough," Integra nodded. "Now, have you heard from Alucard and Seras? I'm almost concerned that he hasn't found a way to make headline news yet."

"Yes, that is rather odd," Walter thought on the notion for a moment. "Perhaps he's managed to engage himself in something constructive for a change?"

"Where did he say he was taking Seras again?"

"A place called Ann Summers, Sir."

Integra had to suppress a guffaw. "Oh he's found something constructive all-right, though I don't know if you want to hear it."

"Judging by your reaction, Sir, I can guess." Walter bristled at the ungentlemanly images that were worming their way into his head.

* * *

"Police Girl," Alucard's gloved hand thrust a small item into her vision, his crimson eyes glancing at her from behind it. "This object is rather strange in it's design; I do not think I understand its purpose."

"Oh! Umm, master, I don't think you should be touching that!" Seras pleaded; she tried to pluck the item from his hand, but Alucard, still enthralled, pulled away and inspected it further.

"What happens if I twist this?" He turned a small knob on the base of the item, and to his astonishment it started pulsating in a most curious fashion, bouncing about on the palm of his hand. Seras merely stood beside him, embarrassed, as the elder vampire stared at the object for several seconds, before realising at last its purpose.

"Police Girl."

"Yes..."

"This is a-"

"I KNOW WHAT IT IS!"

"Can I have one?"

"Why on earth do you-no; no, I'm not going to ask that question."

"If you must know, its for the ball."

"What! Why?!"

"Never you mind, now where is that cashier lady?"

"The one you called a peasant?"

"Yes, that one! You there, Peasant! We wish to purchase this vibrating phallus!"


	3. Don't call her 'Betty'

A/N: Wow! This got popular quickly! I'm so glad you all like it, thank you so much for the lovely reviews! :D

Here's chapter 3, soon to be followed by chapter 4 :)

R&R as always, you lovely people!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing, or its characters etc

* * *

It was late in the evening. Integra was in the drawing room, with Walter attending, slowly reading through the small stack of letters that rested on the small table beside her plush armchair. The flickering glow of the freshly lit fire reflected perfectly on her round spectacles. Her cigar smouldered gently, held in a vice-like grip between her ever clenching teeth; a cobalt-blue eye twitched with irritation as she read the finely penned letter.

 _Dear Sir Integra,_

 _I am happy to write to you my acceptance of your invitation to the Halloween Ball, on the night of the 31_ _st_ _._

 _I confess I found myself surprised when this letter first met my eyes, but I also find myself far more pleased at the fact you've decided to enter the world of social frivolity once more. I am also pleased to note that you invited the other members of the convention; it has been far too long since we've had a gathering where business wasn't at the core of our endeavours._

 _On this note, might I add, I must inform you that many of the guests will be bringing their sons to the occasion. Perhaps you should take this as a fresh opportunity to search for a suitable husband. Questions have already been raised about the succession of Hellsing; I'm sure Her Majesty is most eager to hear that the great family line in secure, as are we, your loyal comrades._

 _Hoping this letter finds you well,_

 _Sincerely_

 _Sir Hugh J. Irons (GBE, GCMG)_

The letter was tossed into the fire before Walter had a chance to interdict it's kamikaze mission.

"Arrogant fool!" She spat, roughly stubbing out her cigar in the crystal ashtray, only to replace it with a fresh one. "Am I merely a womb on legs to them? A woman to be thrust aside the moment Hellsing has a more suitable heir, a _man_?"

"You know that's not the case," Walter reassured her gently. "You'll be the leader of Hellsing until your dying breath; they simply want to know that it wall fall into safe hands when the time comes."

A low, almost feral, growl slipped from her lips.

"That's if I'm not in prison for killing them all first."

"Perhaps you should give this a rest for a bit?" Walter suggested.

"Hmm, perhaps. I do need to check on the preparations in the main hall." Integra rose from her seat, dusting off a few stray flecks of cigar ash. "Walter, can you finish going through these? And if there are any-more like that letter, just burn them."

* * *

Scaffolding was scattered across the large ballroom of the Hellsing manor, the ceiling of the great hall was of some height, and a good deal of work was required to ensure the decorations were fixed correctly in place. The last thing anyone wanted was a member of the round table being crushed by a giant jack-o-lantern falling from the heavens, or worse, the Queen. Integra shuddered at the thought.

"Hamish, make sure those fittings are screwed in extra tight!" She called up to the lead decorator, he looked down at her for a moment, before nodding in understanding and resuming his diligent work.

"Personally, I think it would be a hoot if Sir William's head found itself half way up the imagined rectum of a giant pumpkin."

"And that's precisely why I didn't leave you in charge of the decorations," She countered, eyeing with marked annoyance her onerous servant as he materialised out of the tiled floor beside her. "We're hosting a ball, not an episode of Midsomer Murders, Alucard. What do you want?"

"Why must you always assume that I've done something to warrant your chagrin," He teased; Integra shot him a knowing glare.

"Because I know you," She countered sharply. "Now what is it?"

Alucard conceded politely, almost too politely for Integra's tastes. "It's the Police Girl; I don't think she's taking the matter of this ball as seriously as she should be."

"Oh? Having trouble keeping your little fledgling under control?" Integra teased darkly.

"Of course not," Alucard declared strongly. "The Police Girl knows her place, there is no doubt there. No, the problem is her reluctance to embrace the fashion of the occasion. I've strived tirelessly to find a suitable outfit for her, but alas, to no avail."

"I think your opinions of 'suitable' and Miss Victoria's are a little different," Integra sighed wearily. "I still don't see how your fledgling's problems concern me."

Alucard's cheshire grin widened. "The Police Girl seems to think you'll be able to assist her, master; Something about having a 'woman's' opinion? I don't really remember, I sort of tuned out to her inane babble when her voice had jumped by two octaves."

"Alucard, I haven't worn a dress in nearly six years," Integra reminded him. "How on earth does she expect me to be of any use? All I want is for her to look good enough to distract some of the men away from me for the evening."

"I'm only asking for a few short moments of your time, my master."

With a click from a gloved finger there was a scream that echoed from below the grand house. Shadows suddenly pooled out from Alucard's feet, and out from them a great many strange appendages pulled the shaking form of Seras Victoria out of the blackness.

Integra's eyes widened, if for a moment, and she felt a flush of colour run through her cheeks when her gaze adjusted to the sight before her. This wasn't what she had in mind when she told Alucard she wanted Seras to be a 'distraction'.

"Well? What do you think?" Alucard asked eagerly, fangs glinting in his ever present grin.

"No." Integra shook her head. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?" Alucard protested. "I thought you'd be gun-ho for the Police Girl wearing this."

"Alucard, I wanted her to look alluring, this isn't it," Integra groaned, exasperated, and quickly realising that this was all one of his little jokes at the other vampire's expense. "How on earth has she not fallen out of the thing yet? Is there some magic at work that defies the laws of physics?"

"I only wish it were true, Sir." Seras whimpered, wrapping her arms around herself in an attempt to hide her overly exposed bust. The leather top she was wearing had a _very_ low cut, if she so much as sneezed it would probably burst, spilling out its 'jiggly contents', as Alucard called them, for all the world to see.

"I see no problem." Alucard argued indifferently.

"I look like a harlot!" Seras cried indignantly.

"Good. The illusion is complete." Alucard grinned evilly.

"Seras, you may change." Integra dismissed the blonde vampire, who promptly ran back down towards the dungeons, muttering certain obscenities towards her master.

"Must you always tease her so?" She asked, turning on the elder vampire.

"Must you always spoil my fun?" Alucard countered. "You know I wouldn't actually go through with her wearing such a distasteful outfit. She has nosferatu royalty flowing through her veins, she will be dressed in the raiments befitting her lineage."

"She'd better," Integra warned, pointing a gloved finder at the vampire's broad chest. "I need Seras looking beautiful, and you looking handsome. You are to be the quintessential embodiment of vampires, I want to see you both regarding everyone with marked contempt. I want people to be afraid of you both, as they should be; I want them all to see how much of a mistake it was to mock my house."

"Those who dare insult us deserve nothing more than our deepest antipathy." Alucard agreed.

"And if your display is good, with luck, you'll both manage to keep as much attention away from me as possible."

"Whilst you deal with whatever pathetic stragglers are left that still have the gall to make advances on you?" Alucard reaffirmed, his teeth bare in a diabolical grim. "Oh how I long to see you crush their bloated little egos, I long to see the sad look of defeat in their eyes; truly, it will be glorious."

Integra smirked, imagining all of the musing situations her vampires could invent for the night's festivities, within reason, of course.

"I don't want anyone maimed though, or killed." She reiterated on her thoughts. "Frightened to the point of soiling themselves, yes; but no deaths, Alucard."

"Yes, yes," Alucard waved her off disappointedly. "I'll refrain from violence if that is what you wish, though I think its a waste of perfectly good wine if there isn't at least one death at a ball."

"You forget we live in a modern world, not the sixteenth century." She chided.

"Still no excuse for not ignoring tradition," Alucard parried.

"I will not have bloodshed in-front of the Queen!" Integra hissed.

"Ooh, I didn't know Betty was coming to the ball!" Alucard chirped.

"Do _not_ call her 'Betty'!" Integra snarled.

"She didn't seem to mind last time."

"And will you please stop fanning those ridiculous rumours about yourself and the Queen during the second world war," Her face paled at the words, such lewd things he'd said in the past.

"It wasn't my fault that she was a young, care free, woman at the time. She practically leapt on me."

"You and the Queen did not have a lesb-"

"Oh but we did."

"You didn't!"

"Twice."

"Alucard, I swear to god, if you continue this absurdity I'll have you strung up by your entrails on silver stakes!"

"Delightful, it's so rare that I get foreplay before breakfast."

 ***BLAM** *

* * *

"I'm bored."

Seras peered up from her book, one of her favourite crime novels, to see her master lounging in one of the two chairs by the small dining table in her room.

"Sir Integra tired of you already?" She teased. "I heard gunshots this afternoon."

"What should I do?" He asked, ignoring her jibe.

"Why don't you read a something? She suggested, trying her best to concentrate on the gripping scene on page fifty three, in the hope her bothersome master would leave her in solitude.

"I've read more books than you'd care to count," He replied flatly, picking a small splinter of wood from the surface of the old table. "And most of the stuff written today is drivel, absolute rubbish. I can't believe you even suggested I read that abomination last week."

Seras tried her hardest to suppress a giggle. "I'm sorry master, I thought you'd find it amusing."

"It's an affront to my very existence," Alucard spat vehemently. "Worse still, I learned from one of the maids that they'd adapted the books into a motion picture. Now wherever I go I cant get the images out of my head...the sparkling one."

Alucard shuddered in his seat, trying to wish away the horrid visions of these vampire pretenders with something more appealing, like Seras in a leather bustier, for example.

"Don't even think about it," She warned him, reading his thoughts like a book.

"Your getting better," He acknowledged proudly. "Perhaps there's hope for you yet."

"Hmm, there wont be if you don't get the images of me holding a riding crop out of your twisted mind," She closed the book, realising she'd get no peace any-time soon. Clearly her master _was_ bored.

"You're no fun today." Alucard complained.

"Yeah?" She snapped. "Well you weren't the one forced into a slutty getup earlier on, only to be paraded around before Sir Integra like some lady of the night!"

"I thought you looked ravishing in it," He purred, making Seras blush and hide back behind her novel.

"My breasts were on full display!" She shrieked. "You couldn't have made them more bloody obvious if you put giant neon signs over them!"

He chuckled, gliding over to his fledgling and nuzzling himself up against her neck. "Surely you know I meant no slight towards you?"

"Oh, I'm sure..." Seras growled, trying not to let her master's tricks get the better of her. She elbowed him sharply in the ribs, forcing the older vampire away. "Now please, as much as you take delight in making by blood boil, _I_ want to finish this book before the sun rises."

"Very well," He said, allowing his pale lips to barely brush the lobe of her ear. "I'll come back for you later, my ravishing little draculina."

Seras shrieked in outrage and pelted the book at her tormentor, but he was gone before it made its mark, and the book fell to the ground.

" _You missed._ " Came Alucard's dark cackle through her mind.

Seras growled in frustration, both at him and her own excitement she'd allowed; she picked up the novel, dusting it off and offering some unspoken apology for the unwanted suicide mission she had sent it on. No book deserved the horrid fate of having a close encounter with Alucard's head. Not even Twilight.

* * *

Integra walked into what could only be described as a bomb site; no, a scene from the Somme. It was a proverbial no man's land of destruction, nothing was left unscathed. She removed a handkerchief from her blazer pocket and wiped a few beads of sweat that had formed on her brow; Walter said it had been bad, but nothing like this. Not like this.

Her beautiful kitchen. It was in ruins.

"Walter, why in god's name did you allow Alucard to try his hand at cooking?" She admonished sternly, though a hint of sympathy for the butler still wiggled its way into her voice.

"I do apologise, Sir," Walter huffed, clearing away some of the wreckage. "I tried to convince him away from the idea, but you know Alucard...once he's set his mind to a task there's almost no stopping him."

"Yes, your right." She admitted, pinching her nose with frustration. Her eyes met the shattered remains of their antique cooking range, which had served the house dutifully before it's sudden demise at the hands of a revving lunatic. "Why on earth did he think cooking, of all things, would be a good idea?"

"He said he was bored and wanted to be useful, Sir." Walter replied, his voice strained as he attempted to remove the fridge that had been embedded into the wall.

"As useful as a brick in a glass house," She mumbled, plucking a cigar from her pocket. She lit it quickly and inhaled the smoke, hoping it would allow her bubbling temper some restraint. "Where's the wretched nuisance now?"

"Thankfully he retired to his quarters some time ago." Walter replied shakily.

"Good, I-what on earth is this?!" She exclaimed, holding up a strange piece of twisted metal and plastic that had been shoved roughly into the small dustbin.

"That was the blender, Sir," Walter grimaced. "Lord Alucard had attempted to produce some sort of beverage for us to test, a truly frightful concept, I assure you; however he did not realise the blender required a lid. When it spilled it's contents onto his freshly pressed jacket...well, he took exception to the gesture, and promptly 'relieved the wretched appliance of it's services'."

"Oh dear lord, and what about this?" She pointed to the cooking pot that was filled with a strange, bubbling substance.

"Ah yes, that was the soup." Walter cleared his throat awkwardly. "I have yet to tackle that marvellous piece of...whatever it is. All I know is that there's an entire bottle of tabasco in it. Don't try it, don't let the staff try it, don't even let the police girl try it. I'm organising for it to be disposed at a nearby nuclear waste facility. I daren't pour it down the sink from fear of contaminating the water supply"

Integra took a step away from the 'soup', and cast a tired glance around the kitchen. She needed to find more ways of keeping Alucard entertained.

"Please tell me this will be cleared up in time for the ball?" She whined.

"Oh don't worry, we've got four days." Walter reassured her. "Just keep Alucard away from the kitchen and we'll be safe as houses."

"Looks like I'll have to pull out all the stops to keep him at bay." She sighed.

"Bribery?" Walter asked.

"Netflix."

"Ah."

* * *

"So this is the Hellsing woman?" Luke Rothman's brow creased with concentration as he scrutinised the photo. The woman seemed pretty enough, though her choice of attire wasn't exactly feminine, and she seemed to have a rather slender physique; if there were any curves they were hidden away behind that thick suit.

"Aye, that's Sir Hellsing." His father nodded from across the dining table. "And you'd do well as to not address her again as 'the Hellsing woman' if you hope to take her for a wife one day."

Luke ignored his father's admonishments, instead he merely continued his admirations of the photo. The thumb of his gloved hand gently brushed past the face of Integra on the celluloid. _'Sir Integra Faibrook Wingates Hellsing, my gateway to power and an escape to my father's wretched debts.'_

His thin lips twitched a little, allowing the smallest of smiles to break onto his emotionless features.

 _'You will be mine.'_


	4. Tailored Madness

A/N: Sorry for the delay folks! I've been house sitting for my parents, and took the time to take advantage of some sales on Steam to get my gaming fixed. Here's chapter four!

As always, R&R you lovely people :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing, It's characters etc...

* * *

Seras sat with her arms folded, annoyed. She was sitting on one of the plush settees of the second living room, it was usually a quiet, relaxing place for her to read when the basement became too gloomy for her; it was the one room in the mansion Integra allowed her free reign, mainly because it was never used.

That was until a certain red clad, trigger-happy, five centuries old vampiric asshole decided the room would be a good place to install his new seventy inch wide screen television.

Gone were the quiet nights of reading a book by the fireplace, now Seras was forced to endure her master and his abuse of the Netflix subscription Integra had used to bribe him into submission.

"Oh this is delicious," He cackled aloud, taking a sip from a glass of '98 Merlot, which he stole from the cellar when Walter wasn't looking. The eviscerated corpse of some poor fellow was plastered across the screen as he was slowly eaten alive by the undead. "How else did you think that was going to work out? You were sleeping. In a tent. During a zombie apocalypse."

"Eugh, why are we watching this?" She complained, turning away from the screen as 'some chick's dead sister' came back to life and tried to rip her siblings face off.

"Research." He replied matter-of-factly.

"Research?!" She cried. "In what way does watching the Walking Dead count as research?"

"Yes, for the Halloween Ball. Or have you forgotten that it's a themed event?" He asked, watching with glee as the hillbilly man fired his crossbow at a lumbering zombie.

"You could've chosen something a bit less...gruesome." Seras whined.

"Don't be so squeamish," He admonished. "Learning how to forcibly remove the spleen is a key pillar of a vampire's education."

"Well I'd rather remain uneducated." She mumbled.

"How unsurprising." He quipped.

Seras was about to retort when she was interrupted by the arrival of Walter.

"Lord Alucard, I-Good heavens!" Walter exclaimed as he walked into the room. "What on earth are you watching?"

"Apparently it's research." Seras replied sarcastically, pulling her knees close to her chest so that she could hide her face from the ghastly images.

"I see," Walter frowned, not convinced. "You seem rather enthralled in your 'research', Alucard."

"Indeed I am Walter," Alucard replied. "The fat wife-beater was just eaten in his sleep by a hoard of zombies; though he wouldn't have been in bed in the first place if it wasn't for said wife-beating, that had in-turn earned him a considerable pummelling from one of the other so-called survivors. So it was karma, really."

"And how does this count as research exactly?" The butler asked suspiciously.

"Some of Integra's soldiers have volunteered to be waiters for the ball," Alucard explained. "They've chosen to dress up as the denizens of the undead. I'm conducting research into popular zombie culture in the hopes of bettering their characters."

"Wouldn't it just be easier to just observe real ghouls in their natural habitat?" Walter asked.

"Yes, yes." Alucard waved him off. "But the men are so squishy; bless them. What if they found themselves in the same situation as the wife beater? Eaten like some common snack. You wouldn't want Integra to be a few men down on her waiting staff, would you?"

"That's the worst possible excuse you could have given me." Walter rolled his eyes.

"And yet, here I am." Alucard grinned smugly.

"Be that as it may, I am now in need of your assistance." Walter said begrudgingly. "The tailor has arrived, and Integra needs you both upstairs to have your measurements taken…apparently he didn't feel comfortable about coming down to your rooms to do a fitting."

"What an absolute puss-"

"Thank you, Walter; we'll be up in a moment." Seras finished, before her master could finish. Walter nodded his approval and left, mentally going through his ever growing checklist of party preparations; and secretly praying that Alucard wouldn't ruin them all on the big day.

Seras turned to her master. "Why _are_ we getting fitted for these dresses? I thought we were dressing up in costumes for the ball?"

"Indeed we are," Alucard nodded. "However most costumes will not be particularly well suited for ballroom dancing, so we shall be changing during the evening before the main dance begins."

Seras considered this, how on earth would the guests be expected to do this? "That sounds like a lot of trouble to go through, what about the guests?"

"It's all been taken care of," He smiled confidently. Seras wasn't quite sure what he meant by that, or if she should be fearful for the guest's safety.

* * *

Integra sat quietly at her desk, cigar in hand, as she watched the overly flamboyant tailor practise his craft. His current victim: Seras Victoria.

"Oh! You look like a swan, my darling!" The tailor exclaimed.

"I look like a barbie…" Seras whined; her face tinged pink with embarrassment.

Alucard nodded. "I'm afraid I must agree; I don't want her dressed up like a porcelain doll, it looks ridiculous." He frowned disapprovingly at the overly frilly dress; he reached out to it with one hand and tore the offending garment off his fledgling with a single tug. Seras squealed at the sudden exposure of her body, arms flying up in a vain attempt to cover the most private areas of her figure.

"Try again, tailor." Alucard ordered, handing the tattered dress back to the man, whose face was now drained of all colour.

The tailor looked over to Integra angrily, however she gave him her 'Don't worry, I'll pay for it' look. A look that was well practiced, thanks to Alucard.

"MASTER! WHAT THE HELL!" Seras shrieked, hitting such astronomically high notes that Integra feared all the glass in the room would soon shatter.

"Alucard, why did you do that?" Integra asked tersely, hoping the bill from the tailor wouldn't yet enter five digits.

Alucard merely shrugged at Seras. "You look better without the silly dress."

"Sir Integra, permission to shoot him?" She asked hotly, causing Alucard to erupt in a fit of laughter.

"Denied." Integra's voice was level, though she too had begun to chuckle ever so slightly; the way the girl's skin was rapidly changing from deathly pale to vibrant scarlet was almost comical.

"Come now, Police Girl, don't be so bashful." Alucard chided between bursts of snickering. "Your body is beautiful; it's a crime to hide such a curvaceous bosom from the world. Why, I'm sure men would definitely kill for it… or at least pay for it."

"That doesn't give you the excuse to strip me in front of strangers!" Seras hollered.

Alucard's eyebrows arched mischievously. "Oh, so I'm allowed to do it when we're not around strangers? How delightful."

"NO!"

"Why not?" He asked.

"Two words! Personal-fucking-space!"

"That's three."

"GRAAAAAAAAH!"

"Ok Seras, bring it down a bit." Integra pleaded, covering her already bleeding eardrums.

"I suppose I could always make Integra's clothing 'accidently' disappear," Alucard pondered aloud.

"Alucard…" Integra warned.

"It could be a nice bit of sport," He continued, ignoring Integra, and failing to notice the gentle click of a gun being cocked. "But it wouldn't be as fun; her breasts are so much smaller tha-"

*BLAM*

"Ah, much better. Now shut up, Alucard." Integra smiled, as if she was completely unaware of the smoking revolver in her hand. The tailor suddenly burst into the room.

"Was that a gunshot? WAS THAT A GUNSHOT?!" He cried.

"Nothing to worry about," Integra said in a blasé tone as she twiddled with the gun in her hand. "Carry on Mr Richardson."

"OH MY GOD! HE'S DEAD!"

"No he's not he-"

"YOU SHOT HIM!"

"Once, give it a few min-"

"IN THE HEAD!"

"He'll be fine!"

"FINE? FINE?! HE'S HAD HIS BLODDY HEAD BLOWN OFF!"

"Technically it was just his lower mandible, and a bit of tongue." Integra corrected. "Honestly, he gets this punishment at least once a week and it barely fazes him."

*THWUMP*

"-Sigh-"

"Um, he's fainted sir."

"Yes, I can see that Seras."

"And it looks like his bowels have failed him."

"Right," Integra removed her glasses, rubbing her eyes wearily before dialling into her phone. "Walter, yes, we need to find a new tailor."


	5. Music and Porn

A/N: Holy crap! This fic became popular, and fast! Thank you all so much for the great reviews! I really didn't think it was that funny when I started writing this (I still don't xD), but I'm glad you all like it. I was going to give up on it, but I've decided to continue, for you guys :)

Here's another chapter, enjoy!

Oh and I **DO** take requests! If you want something written in, let me know!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellsing, its characters, or anything affiliated with it.

* * *

Alucard was bored, yet again.

He'd been banished from the kitchen, the billiard room, the wine cellar (after feeding a bottle of wine to a goat), and even the firing range. Apparently Integra wanted the house left in some semblance of good order before the ball. A rather boring notion in Alucard's eyes.

And so he found himself traipsing towards the barracks, hoping to scare the living shit out of the pathetic people assigned to guard Hellsing. He hoped in particular that the Frenchman, Pip Bernadotte, was lurking around somewhere; for nothing delighted him more than slowly tenderising the man's self esteem.

He'd also noticed the man had developed a particular fondness for Seras. That wouldn't do.

The barracks slowly loomed into view, and Alucard was musing the thought of spiking Pip's beer with laxative, when his ears pricked to the sound of music, of all things.

"Hmm, what's this?" Alucard asked aloud. He slowly crept up to the building that the soldiers called home, and hid himself in the shadows. Through the window he could see several members of the wild geese engaged in some sort of musical display.

He hated to admit it but they were actually quite good, brilliant even; and Alucard wasn't usually one to praise the men. The drums were good, the guitar riffs were spot on, an the bass player could work magic; all they were missing was a half-decent vocalist.

It was then he was hit by a truly brilliant idea, much like a cow being hit by a freight train.

He popped his head through the wall.

"Hey guys! Whats up!?"

The reaction, as always, was priceless. They all screamed like little girls and stumbled over themselves in a vain attempt to flee.

"Oh c'mon! It's only me!" Alucard rolled his eyes. "If I were another vampire you'd all be shrivelled, bloodless sacks of skin by now." He summoned forth the shadows, which promptly scooped up the frightened soldiers and dropped them on the arses in front of Alucard.

"Oh god, what do you want?" One of the men, William, cried.

"I'm glad you asked, Willy."

"Don't call me Willy!"

"Fine then. I'm glad you asked...dick."

"Hey!"

"What? You said you didn't like Willy; besides, dick sounds more manly. You should be thankful." Alucard crossed his arms over his chest. "Now, if your done bitching I have a proposition for you."

"What on earth could you want from us?" Another one of the men, Arthur, asked.

"Well Arty... *snicker*... how would you like to be famous?" Alucard asked.

"Famous?" Arthur asked.

"Well, you don't seem to be completely useless at playing music," Alucard indicated to the instruments that lay strewn across the floor. "How'd you like to be part of the entertainment at the upcoming ball?"

The men all seemed to be genuinely surprised by Alucard's proposal. It was actually a sane suggestion; he wasn't suggesting something ludicrous like using mortars to fire on a flock of pigeons for sport, or using hand grenades to fix a clogged toilet pipe. The usual 'Alucard' things.

"Would Sir Integra allow us to play?" William asked.

"Don't fret, Willy, I can guarantee it." Alucard smiled confidently.

"Isn't there a chamber orchestra playing though?" The third man (Sergi) pipped up.

"Oh, those old farts?" Alucard scoffed. "They're only there for the dancing part of the night's festivities. We'll have free reign for the rest of the night; besides, Integra wants the evening to be as wild and as frightening as legally possible, surely you know how much she detests the other knights?"

The other men laughed, oh they sure knew about it. Whenever there was a round table conference they could hear Integra's cursing from over ten miles away, she really had a talent for it.

"So you'll do it?" Alucard asked.

"Why not, as long as you square it with the boss."

"Very well, I shall go and inform her of our plans...oh, and you'd better fill in that idiotic captain of yours; hopefully he can scape together enough brain cells to make sense of it all."

* * *

Integra was in her office, fervently slogging her way through paperwork; the ball was three days away and she wanted to get all of her work done to give her at least a day to mentally, physically, and emotionally prepare herself for the gauntlet.

She was now onto her least favourite pile of paperwork: Expenses. Specifically listed under the file called 'Alucard.'

Well..it was originally called Alucard, but Integra had written over the name with permanent marker and replaced it with 'Vampiric Asshole'...

Admittedly she had good reason for it.

"Christ almighty!" She whined, noting how many zeroes were were on the invoice. "How on earth did that mission cost this much? It was only two days long!"

"Unfortunately Alucard was mistakenly granted unlimited access to the hotel's television channels," Walter explained, tugging on the collar of his shirt. "Apparently he found the...*ahem*...adult entertainment channels...and, well, took advantage of it."

Integra flipped the invoice over, and gaped when she saw the long list of transactions. "What the fu-...'A Cockwork Orange'?...'Nightmare on Dyke Street'?...'Buttman'?... 'Buttman and Throbbin''...oh god...'On her Majesty's Secret Cervix'?!'

She shoved the invoice in her ashtray and set it alight with her cigar.

"Burn faster, burn faster! BURN FASTER!"

Slowly the offending sheet of paper was burned down to a few cinders, but just to be safe, Integra shot it. Twice.

She sighed, content it had been obliterated, "Good. Now the healing can begin..."

She heard a gentle cough, and looked up, Walter was speechless.

"What?" Integra asked.

"Nothing...moving on..." He quickly busied himself with another claims form. _Note to self: Confiscate gun. Hire anger management specialist._

* * *

Alucard was approaching the office when he heard gunfire.

 _'Ooops...guess she found the porn invoice...'_

He phased through the wall, noting with pleasure the look of unadulterated disgust on his master's face.

"Ah, good evening master." He crooned.

"Is it? IS IT?!" Integra shrieked. "Do you have any fucking idea what I just had to read? How on earth did you manage to watch ninety hours of porn over two days?! It's mathematically impossible!"

"Never underestimate my sexual deviance, it has no bounds." Alucard said proudly.

"Ew...you know what? Forget that. I'm just going to ERASE the memory of reading that and live a long, happy life. Now, what do you want, so I say say no and order you to piss off" Integra growled, lighting up another cigar. Alucard induced chain smoking should be classed as an Olympic sport; Integra would do England proud.

"Well, if your done being a bitch, I've got an idea I think you'd be interested in." Alucard said proudly.

"Unlikely, but continue." Integra said between puffs of smoke.

"I've found us a band for the ball." Alucard explained. "The orchestra's woefully boring, so I thought I'd liven things up a bit."

"A band?" Integra asked. "What kind of band?"

"A good one," Alucard replied. "And they're right here; amazingly some of those wild geese are actually usefully for something other than cannon fodder."

"Indeed?" Integra asked. "And are they in line with our mantra of freaking out the knights as much as humanely, legally, and ethically possible?"

"Yes yes," Alucard sighed. "They're brash, but not enough to make Bet-I mean, the Queen, they're not enough to make the Queen blush."

"Lucky save...but you needn't concern yourself with Her Majesty; she'll will be leaving at eight-thirty. If you can hold the reigns until then, you can go nuts." Integra smirked.

"Deal." Alucard held out his hand.

Integra smacked it away. "Ew! You think I'd shake that thing after reading what you get up to with your spare time?"

"I do wash, you know." Alucard retorted.

"Unless you sanitise yourself with thermonuclear weapons, I'm not touching you! Now get out and organise that band of yours; I've got to finish paying the damages _you've_ caused!"

"Very well," Alucard bowed as he began to fade from the room. "Oh, and send the CEO of Dairy Queen my regards."

He disappeared through the wall just in time to avoid the six bullets Integra fired at him.


	6. Let the night begin

A/N: I promised you all another chapter soon, and boy did I deliver...only six hours later! :D

R&R as always you lovely people.

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing, its characters, or anything affiliated with it.**

* * *

The sun was beginning to set, it was the evening of the ball, and the whole house was abuzz with activity; final adjustments were being made to the decorations, the cooks were working frantically in the kitchens, and those attending the ball were in the midst of changing into their desired costumes.

Alucard was the first to enter the drawing room, the arranged rendezvous for the hosts. He was going as himself, Count Dracula, of course; this was for two reasons. One, it was easy and required little effort to play himself, and two, Integra had forbidden him from going as a priest, much to his disappointment. His towering form was a sight to behold, dressed in the finest clothing from the nineteenth century; his usual red jacket and hat were replaced by a regal, black suit. He kept his red cravat, though, as it gave good contrast with his suit and white undershirt.

He surveyed the room and selected a comfortable looking chair by the fire; though it provided no benefit to his cold, lifeless body, Alucard found it to be a pretty thing to observe whilst he waited for the ladies.

He did not wait long. Within minutes, the door to the room creaked open, allowing the small form of his fledgling to slip inside. His crimson gaze regarded her hungrily for several moments, noting the elegant red dress that embraced her sumptuous form. It was strapless, and exposed enough of her back to be alluring, yet not enough to not be distasteful. Her red dancing shoes were matched in colour by a pair of little horns atop her golden locks, and a short tail. She was going as the devil.

A gentle growl rumbled its way through his chest, if the real devil looked as delicious as she did now he would gladly welcome his entrance into the gates of hell.

"How-how do I look, master?" She stammered, adjusting the top of her dress nervously.

"Scrumptious, a more delectable sight could not be found." His words were heavy, betraying his carnal appetite.

Seras could only respond with a childish smile, all words stolen from her by embarrassment, and joy, at his rare compliment.

"And what about me? Do I deserve the same praise?" He teased.

"You look very handsome, master." Seras managed the words, barely.

"I know." He agreed.

"Ooh, you're so full of yourself!" She huffed cheekily, folding her arms.

Alucard would have laughed at her childishness, however his ears pricked to the sound of hurried footsteps from the room below; the kitchen.

"Is our master far away?" He asked, noting the time. "The guests will be arriving in a few hours, and we still have final...preparations to make."

"She'll be down any moment, I think."

Alucard's grin widened. "Good, I'm most intrigued to see what attire she has chosen for the night's festivities."

"Knowing Sir Integra it'll be something masculine, and un-lady-like." Seras giggled, but Alucard ignored her, rising to his feet when something marvellous caught his eye as his master appeared by the door.

"I assure you it's nothing of the sort, Officer Victoria." Integra rebuked, making the little vampire jump at her surprise arrival. Alucard found himself visibly, and pleasantly, shocked by the transformed woman that passed through the doorway.

Gone was the plain suit that would usually mask her luscious figure, her body now contained within a beautifully corseted black dress. It was long at the back, almost down to her knees, but shortened as it ran around to her front, exposing her lower legs. It had trimmings of red fabric here, there, and everywhere; black sleeves covered her arms, running down to her wrists where they flared out with intricate patterning. Around her neck was a flared collar, though most of it was concealed under billowing strands of her blonde hair, which appeared to have been curled. She wore black heels, something never before seen on the stoic maiden that did their job of extenuating her well-toned calf muscles. All in all she'd managed to turn herself into an unbelievably sexy beast. To top it off, she was wearing fake-fangs.

"Sweet black-fucking-sabbath, Is it my birthday? Or am I just that lucky to be in the same room as the pair of you?" He chuckled darkly, positively delighted by his master's appearance.

"Careful Alucard, you don't want to pass out from all that blood rushing from your head." Integra smirked, secretly happy at the attention.

"Nonsense, I'll be perfectly fine." He rebuked lustfully, stepping towards her with hungry eyes.

"Not if your hand moves one inch closer, you won't be," Integra warned with a wag of her finger.

"Is that…is that a gun stuffed down your brazier?" He asked, leaning down to peer dangerously close to her hallowed bosom.

"And what if it is?" Integra said as she swatted him away. "I need to be able to protect myself if somebody makes a grab for me."

"It's usually considered a faux pas to bring a gun to a dance," Alucard chided, shaking his head.

"Oh fine, I'll leave the gun. Asshole." Integra took the gun out from between her breasts and placed it on a small table by the door. "If I get ravaged by a lustful knight's son, I'm blaming you."

"Pfft, you could do with a good humping." Aluard snorted.

"Don't make me pick that gun back up!"

"Ok, ok, no shooting tonight!" Seras pleaded, jumping between the pair. "Remember, we've got an important night ahead of us, and as much as I hate this costume, I'd rather not have it ruined by gunshots."

"You have a point," Integra conceded,. "We've got some planning to do before those bastards get here; lets get to work."

* * *

A few hours later, Integra watched from the window as the many cars ferrying the guests slowly rolled up to the main entrance of the mansion. Alucard stood by her side, and Seras behind him; they were all watching, making observations of who to watch out for, who to ignore, and who to render a mental (and physical if need be) wreck should they make advancements.

It was a rather fun game, especially when Alucard could read the minds of others. Integra was planning to use him over the evening to gather intelligence on any potential suitors; she wanted to know every man's weakness, every fear or fancy that could be used against him. Alucard had no issues with being used for such purposes; in fact, he rather enjoyed it.

He had two reasons. One; it was fun to make people squirm at the exposure of their insecurities. Two; it would help solidify his master's reputation: that she was a woman not to be trifled with.

Fantasised of on a lonely Saturday night with a glass of Chardonnay, most certainly; but not trifled with.

"Ok who's next?" Seras asked, scribbling down notes into a clipboard. Integra had ordered Walter to prepare dossiers on anybody that they suspected to be gunning for her hand in marriage. It was quite a long list. This wasn't surprising, considering Integra's position as the head of a powerful organisation that had a leashed monster of pure destruction, and a big tittied police girl; it was a rather attractive package. Especially if your a boobs person.

Integra's gaze shifted to the car that had pulled up to the front of the house, and observed the people who exited it.

"Well, judging by the fact the older man's head looks like a shaved testicle, I'd say Sir McArthur's just arrived."

"Ok...Sir Anthony McArthur" Seras began flipping through her pages, looking for his dossier. "Ah, here we are! Ok, his son, Lewis, is thirty-two years old...runs several firms heavily involved in the industrial sector, financially stable...slight obsession with hair products...nothing on here throwing up any red flags."

"Alright, list him as a low-risk target." Integra said as she lit up a fresh cigar.

The next car rolled up a few minutes later. Integra grimaced.

"Eugh...Sir Rothman," Integra's scowl deepened as she caught eye of another man with him. "Of course he'd bring one of his sons along."

"Luke Rothman, to be exact," Seras said, her keen eyesight allowing her to pick out the man with ease. "Twenty-six, five years in the RAF as a combat officer before his father pulled him out, apparently he wanted to groom his son to take his place on the round table. Unfortunately there not much info on him apart from that, Sir, he's been pretty elusive. Anything you'd like to add?"

"Sir Rothman is in serious debt after some poor investment choices a few years ago," Integra said between a few long drags from her cigar. "He'll no doubt want to marry his son up to someone rich, as good security. He's one to watch out for."

"I don't like him," Alucard growled. "He smells of douchebag."

"Sir Rothman?" Integra asked.

"No, his son," Alucard said. "Sir Rothman is a fool who can't manage his money, but his son has a troubling aura...perhaps I should keep an eye on him, master?"

"No, I'll be fine," Interga shook her head, if it was at all possible she wanted to handle the evening on her own. Alucard and Seras were mainly there as deterrents for the weaker men, ensuring that Integra only had the fun of entertaining the biggest of the bastards, or the most fool-hardy anyway.

"Very well," Alucard nodded. "But if you need him to be raped by a hot poker, let me know."

"Noted. Ok Seras, who's next?"

They carried on like this for a good half hour as the guests filled in. Downstairs, Walter would be busy greeting them and guiding them through to the main hall. Integra was waiting for all the major players to arrive before making her grand entrance; the more she kept the men on edge, the easier it would be to manipulate them.

The call finally came through from Walter, informing them that the last member of the convention of twelve had arrived. The group made their way through the mansion's hallways to the main hall; the sound of music slowly grew louder as they approached.

"I take it everythings been arranged?" Integra asked apprehensively.

"Have no fear, everything has been prepared and organised to the letter," Alucard reassured her, taking long, gentle strides beside his master; Seras had to almost jog to keep up with them. "The genteel, classical music shall play until the Queen has departed, then the Wild Geese shall be unleashed upon them."

"Excellent," Integra smirked, she was looking forward to showing everyone how much of a bad idea it was to openly mock her organisation. "Has everyone dressed appropriately?"

"The men have been appropriately zombiefied, yes," Alucard nodded. "I did offer to remove the occasional limb, for added realism, but they sadly declined."

"How surprising." Integra replied dryly.

The three of them finally came up to the large doors that lead to the other main entrance to the hall.

"Well, here goes...something...whatever... Alucard, don't kill anything; Seras, seduce at will."

"Fine." Alucard grumbled.

"Do I have to?" Seras asked weakly.

"Miss Victoria, you have been blessed with large breasts, and by God I plan to use them. Now lets go."


	7. Suitor No 1

**A/N: Well it's been nearly a year since I updated this. I honestly had no plan to continue, but having Halloween approaching once again put me in a creative mood. So I am please to say this story is no longer on hiatus! Enjoy, and please leave a review! :)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own Hellsing, its characters, or anything affiliated with it.**

* * *

' _Good god, that's an awful lot of_ people,' Integra thought as she gazed across the room of flabbergasted guests. The ballroom had dropped into deathly silence; the orchestra had stopped playing its melodic tunes, and all idle chatter had ceased. Integra could have probably heard a pin drop if it weren't for her heart beating faster than the hump-rate of an aroused Chihuahua.

Too proud to let her nerves show, Integra mentally steeled herself and descended the stairs with her two vampires in tow. All eyes were following her, or at least she thought so at first; but after careful inspection she was somewhat pleased to note that some of the guests were gawping at something, or rather someone, behind her. This was confirmed by the mental rumbling of Alucard's laughter as it echoed through her mind.

 _'I think you've delivered your desired effect, master,_ ' Alucard chuckled through their bond, whilst taking long, deliberate strides behind her. _'But judging by the scent of several dozen aroused gentlemen -and dare I say a few ladies- I'd say that dear Seras has you beaten on other fronts…notably in the breasticle department.'_

Integra caught the sound of a whine from the draculina, but luckily it was too quiet for the rest of the party to hear. _'Weakness is unbecoming of you, Seras,'_ She chided. _'You are the childe of Alucard; become the maniacal uber-bitch I know you're capable of.'_

Seras stiffened a little, but continued her pace behind her master. _'Right, yes sir. But if any old men put the moves on me, I'm going to drag them into a private room and_ _ **rip**_ _it off.'_

Integra was about to caution Seras against bodily mutilation, which was apparently frowned upon in civilised society, but she had ran out of stairs, and now found herself facing the towering figure of Sir Irons - who had meandered his way through the large crowd to meet her.

Almost in unison, the pair came to a halt, and Integra felt a prickle of anger well up within her; after all, she was currently facing the smug bastard that had forced her into this situation in the first place. With a bit of effort, she repressed the desire to have Alucard shove a cactus up the no doubt tight rectum of the man, and forced a pleasant smile to grace her lips as she him up.

A few moments of silence passed before the room became loud again with the sound of music, and the guests resumed their chattering and acquaintance-making; nobody dared to try and eavesdrop on a conversation between the two most intimidating humans in the room. Especially when one of them had a pair of bloodsuckers for chaperones.

"Sir Irons." Integra acknowledged, extending her hand.

"Sir Integra," The man replied neutrally, taking her hand in a firm handshake. "After all these years you still manage to surprise me."

"Oh, really?" Integra asked. "What have I done this time?"

"I never knew you could throw a party," He gestured around the bustling ballroom. "Apparently I was mistaken; it seems you do know the meaning of social frivolity after all."

"Well I really didn't have a choice, did I?" Integra asked, further tightening her grip on the elder knight's hand before releasing it.

"I don't know what you mean." He deflected.

"She was referring to you going over her head and telling the Queen she was invited to a ball that didn't yet exist." Alucard butted in with a defensive growl, and Sir Irons bristled angrily at the vampire's interruption.

Frustration already building, Integra held up her arm as a barrier between the two men, both of whom had egos too big for one room.

"Alucard, go and mingle with the guests," She commanded. "And take Seras with you. She needs to learn from a gentleman how to socialise."

"I shall be happy to teach her, my master." He bowed in acceptance.

"I don't know what you mean," Integra said, brushing him away. "I was talking about one of the men over there. Now go."

If Alucard wanted to protest, she gave him no time, for Integra turned straight back to Sir Irons. "Alucard's impertinence aside, he was right," She said, before adding. "You _did_ go over my head. That was a mistake."

"Well someone has to make sure this organisation continues," Sir Irons retorted, as if it were his self-righteous duty to do so. "And if you're not going to actively look for a husband, we shall bring one to you."

"Yes I noticed," Integra said, wishing already to excuse herself to a distant balcony so that she could inhale half a pack of cigars. "How many 'potential' husbands must I turn down this time?"

"More than last time," Sir Irons affirmed strongly. "And you'll be pleased to know that a good deal of them aren't relations of the convention."

"Imagine that," Integra faked a gasp. "I actually have some variety for a change. Tell me; are some of them modest enough to have an income smaller than six figures? Or are the plebs still off limits to me?"

Sir Irons' brow furrowed deeply, and Integra felt half tempted to bait the man even more.

"These men come from varying walks of _well-bred_ society," He said hotly, though keeping his voice quiet to avoid unwanted attention. "It would be in your best interest to at least attempt something of this evening; otherwise I shall be forced to encourage the Queen towards more drastic measures."

"You needn't bother with it," Integra said, waving away the invisible threat. "I'll have you know that I actually intend to play this little game of yours, for once."

"It's good to hear that you're finally seeing reason to this." Sir Irons said triumphantly. Integra knew that if the man were a bird, he'd be fluffing his tail feathers. Oh if only he knew that was in store for him tonight!

"I didn't say that I'd find a husband tonight," Integra reminded him. "But if it pleases you and Her Majesty that I try, then try I shall."

"That's all that we ask, for now."

"Good. Now, shall we get this game started?" _Because I know you're going to regret it._

* * *

"She did _what_ with a melon?" One of the young ladies asked between fits of giggles.

"You heard me," Another said cheekily, her cheeks flushed by the flow of wine. "And they found him the next day, hanging upside down, starkers, with nothing hiding his 'you know what', save for a lace doyley."

Walter fought the growing urge to roll his eyes; he was getting far too old for this. After twenty minutes of being hounded by Sir Iron's about when Integra's non-existent marital situation, he had managed to escape the man, only to find himself trapped by the vixens of vulgarity. He actually preferred the term: gossiping, wine guzzling sluts. But he couldn't really say that out loud, so Vixens of Vulgarity it was.

It was expected, of course, that the Knights would bring their daughters to the ball as well; though their main focus was selling their sons to Integra as a suitable husband. But some of their daughters could be the most prolific gossipers in the whole of the British aristocracy, and their mothers didn't help improve the matter either.

However, some members of the convention also reserved the suspicion that Integra was in fact a closet lesbian, so bringing a few ample-bosomed ladies was considered a healthy 'backup plan'; Even if it meant putting up with a torrent of scandalous gossip.

When the assembled gaggle of girls burst into another round of laughter, apparently to do with something involving the Duke of Westminster and an amusingly shaped cucumber, Walter quietly slipped away, regretting his feeble decision to even attempt a normal conversation with such people.

Walter had originally held reservations against 'dressing up' for the evening's festivities, but he had found it rather fun being dressed up, as a vampire of all things. He sauntered around the room, offering drinks to guests and trying his utmost to scare the living daylights out of them. He'd decided it would be good to have a bit of fun before the Queen arrived at six o' clock; then the real challenge would begin: keeping her away from the chaos...and Alucard.

He noted with interest that the vampire in question was currently in the process of interrogating a man who looked about ready to soil himself, and who'd apparently made the critical mistake of making a pass at Seras Victoria.

"Listen to me, pencil neck," Alucard growled in a deep, threatening tone that told of much pain if ignored. "That one belongs to me..."

"It's alright master, I don't mind." Seras interjected, her jovial and slightly alluring tone surprising Walter. "Harry was just paying me a compliment, weren't you my handsome man?"

'Harry' nodded in earnest, and it suddenly clicked in Walter's head what was going on.

 _Oh my, that's evil, even for you two,_ he thought with mixed feelings of amusement and pity, for the poor gentleman's sake.

They both did it so well that Walter had almost fallen for the act himself, but he knew better. For one: Alucard _couldn't_ hurt any of the guests, that is unless they threatened Integra; and two: Seras would _never_ call anyone but her master handsome. And even then he didn't think she'd have the courage for it.

Alucard gave a harrumph, folding his arms and contorting his face into one that looked positively livid. "Very well... _But_ if you so much as think of doing anything to her, I'll take a croquet mallet to your testicles. And believe me sir, I'm a _hard_ player."

Harry gulped, but Seras grabbed him by the arm and brought her lips to his ear. "Ignore him; now why don't you come and introduce me to some of your lovely friends, hmm?"

The odd pair wandered off, and Seras quickly looked over her shoulder to Walter long enough to roll her eyes in disgust. He had to hold a hand up to his mouth to mask the chuckle that threatened to break lose.

"That's the third bloke already," Alucard said as he walked over, plucking a glass of wine from Walter's carrying tray. "Honestly, if I knew it would be this much fun I'd have nagged Integra into doing this years ago. I wonder what the record is for how fast you can make a fat aristocrat piss himself? Because I'm sure that I'll best it tonight."

"Alucard," Walter began in a warning tone. "Remember that we cant go _too_ crazy yet; the Queen hasn't even arrived, and then we'll need to wait until she leaves which will be no sooner than eight o' clock. I'm sure that even _you_ can be civilised for but a few hours."

"We'll you're a boner killer aren't you," Alucard scoffed, keeping a dark look on his face for whenever a guest felt brave enough to look at him. "Very well, I shall _try_ ; but god help me if the Queen is wearing that delectable perfume she used to wear. I'll wreck her harder than that Miley Sinus chick."

"Miley _Cyrus_." Walter corrected.

"It matters not," Alucard shrugged. "Sinus, Cyrus; either way I'm gonna go the Queen like a wrecking ball if she's got that sex scent going."

Walter buried his face in his hand. _Why me?_ He asked himself.

* * *

The night had been going surprisingly well so far, Integra thought. They were thirty minutes and ten seconds into the ball and nobody was dead; a promising start. If only the same could be said for her current selection of social company.

"...and then she said to him, 'would you prefer I had the salmon!'" Sir Walsh exclaimed, and Integra cringed as those around her fell into forced laughter at his increasingly dry jokes. The only thing worse than him was his son: Nathaniel.

He was a ratty sort of man; tall, thin, with greased back hair and an unhealthily large nose. His personality was much the same, she found. At least Sir Walsh had some form of humour, for his son had _none_ , and didn't even attempt to crack so much as a smile at his own father's blunt wit.

 _I think I'll clear this one off early on,_ Integra noted internally. The last thing she wanted was a uptight, horrid man further souring her mood. And she had just the thing to put him off.

 _'I think I'm going to enjoy this evening more than I thought.'_

"I must say, your father's hilarious." She said a few minutes later as they walked around the room. Integra noticed many eyes following them, and soon realised that every moment she had tonight would be under some form of constant scrutiny. All the more reason for her performance to be a good one, she thought.

"I suppose he has his moments," Nathanial said, though he'd nearly chocked on his drink at Integra's declaration. She noticed that his face was a little paler than before, and he appeared to have developed some sort of nervous tick around his left eye.

"You know," Integra said in her best 'innocent' voice. "He's getting a bit on in his years; a room for him would always be open for Sir Walsh at Hellsing should we... well... It's been so long since I've had a father figure around and he's just so funny. I can see it now, the three of us relaxing together in the living room of an evening and-" She stopped mid-sentence, noticing that she'd suddenly been abandoned by her suitor. Casting a quick glance around the room, she noticed the man running hell for leather outside the main doors screaming something along the lines of "Fuck it, It's not worth the dad jokes!"

Integra cocked her head in astonishment. He'd been far easier than expected; she turned around to find Alucard standing behind her with a stop watch.

"Three minutes and eight seconds," He let out a whistle of surprise. "Impressive."

She smirked. One down, two thousand or so to go.


End file.
